


False Tongues

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An innocent discussion of a current news topic skirts dangerous waters, pushing Blair to issue a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Tongues

  
Disclaimers: You know the drill. Obviously, I don't 'own' these characters - the lucky people at Pet Fly Productions and Paramount do. They are simply being borrowed without permission, but no infringement is intended. I'm not making a dime with this (and neither should you, dear reader). However, I hold the copyright on the words that follow.  
  
Notes: Mucho thanks to Charly for a quick beta-read (all mistakes my own). This little piece started out as an innocent diversion while I drove 15 miles per hour in a snowy traffic jam. It isn't polished, it isn't especially well-written, but I hope it is enjoyable. Also, I'm very interested to hear what you think is going on in the ending, so drop me a line.  
  
Summary: An innocent discussion of a current news topic skirts dangerous waters, pushing Blair to issue a challenge.   
  
Warnings: None  
  
  


 **False Tongues**  
  
by   
  
Chaomath

  
  
"Oh, come on, Jim. He's a liar," Blair said, flicking the radio off.   
  
Jim took his eyes off the road briefly and said, "No he's not! He just had to get out of a bad situation."   
  
"Oh, *please*," Blair said with derision. "He either lied in court or he's lying now. There's no other way to interpret it. He's a LIAR."  
  
"He didn't have a choice," Jim replied. "Don't try to tell me that he wasn't being crucified by the press."   
  
"Well, of course he was," Blair said, turning to face Jim. "But I can't believe that you, a cop, thinks it is okay to lie in court. Right?"  
  
"Who said he lied? Maybe he *did* do it," Jim said.   
  
"Well, then, why is he claiming now that he was set up? Why is he blaming the victim?" Blair countered.  
  
"Oh, geez, there you go again with your knee-jerk liberalism. The woman had a history of this kind of behavior. Don't you think that counts for something?"  
  
"What counts, Jim, is what happened in this case. Not what she's done before, but what she did now," Blair said. "Besides, you didn't answer my question. If he said he was guilty in court, he can't go around now saying that he wasn't -- that he cut a deal because he couldn't get a fair trial."  
  
"Well, maybe he couldn't get a fair trial. I mean, all sorts of crazy stuff was coming out about him. I don't blame him for just wanting to make it all go away," Jim said.   
  
"I don't either," Blair admitted. "But he's still a hypocrite. He might have been a great sportscaster, but he's an idiot. I mean, I could respect him if he would just acknowledge that he was into some kinky stuff."  
  
"What do you want him to do? Go on "Oprah" and say wearing women's underwear gets him off?" Jim said, raising his eyebrows. "I know *I* don't want to hear about it."  
  
"Maybe, but he could defuse the whole situation by saying 'yeah, so what? I did it.' Then there's nothing much more to say, right?" Blair asked. "I mean, plenty of guys have tried on their girlfriend's underwear at least once."  
  
"Oh, sure. That'll work. How many guys really do that? And how many would be willing to go around telling everyone?" Jim mocked.   
  
"But that's the point! If he just owned up to it, it would all die down. Besides," Blair added, "a *lot* of people have done it. I have."  
  
"Blair! Are you serious?" Jim turned away from the road to look at Blair.  
  
"Yeah, I tried it once," Blair said, willing himself not to blush. "Close your mouth, Jim. You can't tell me that you haven't. Right? Oh, come on! You were *married*!"  
  
"What does that have to do with it?" Jim said, too incredulous to tease Blair.  
  
"Well..." Blair was momentarily at a loss. He fiddled with the window crank, enjoying the cool metal against his sweaty hand. "Carolyn never asked you to?"  
  
"No. No way," Jim replied. "No way. Nothing like *that*."   
  
"Oh, *please*. It's not that weird," Blair said, then thought a moment. "You mean you weren't *ever* curious?"   
  
"No. Never. Uh-uh." Jim shook his head as an unwelcome image of Blair in skimpy panties danced at the edges of his mind.   
  
"I can't believe that you never even wondered about it. You can't be *that* uptight."  
  
"Uptight? I'm not uptight!" The distracting image vanished as he rose to the bait.  
  
"Yes you are. You're turning red just talking about it. I can't imagine what you'd do if someone actually asked you to do it." Blair burst into laughter at the thought.  
  
"Glad you find it so funny," Jim said, eyes narrowing. "But I'm not uptight. It's just weird."  
  
"It's not *that* weird. Next you'll be telling me that you've never kissed another guy," Blair said with shake of his head.   
  
"Wait a minute," Jim said, risking a glance at Blair. "You're telling me that you've kissed a guy?"  
  
"I didn't say that I did," Blair said, looking out the side window at the setting sun. Then he turned to Jim and said, "But, yeah, I have."  
  
Jim's eyes widened, then he laughed and said, "Well, 'sweetheart,' I guess it's your turn to blush, now."  
  
"Jim, man, I *told* to stop calling me that," Blair said angrily. "It's not funny anymore. Everyone at the station is calling me that, ever since that phone call. And I'm not blushing."   
  
"Yes you are. You're getting even redder, now," Jim noted with barely suppressed glee. They were waiting at a traffic light, and Jim leaned toward Blair, grinning.  
  
"Shut up," Blair demanded, and shoved Jim away from him. "I can't help it. But I am *not* embarrassed about it."   
  
"Then why is your heart rate shooting up? Huh?" Jim was loving this. It was rare to get Sandburg so riled. He moved back to Blair, intent upon enjoying his superiority while it lasted.   
  
"Maybe it's because you're so close to me, Big Guy," Blair said seductively, turning the tables with a comic leer. He chuckled as Jim abruptly straightened, then leaned closer to Jim and asked, "So, you spent all that time in the Army and nothing ever happened?"   
  
Blair was rewarded with a look of total confusion. "No -- why should it?"  
  
"Oh, I dunno -- an all-male society, institutionalized interdependency, close living quarters -- shall I continue? I am an anthropologist, after all. I do *know* these things," Blair said in his best professor voice.  
  
"Give me a break. You don't know the first thing about it," Jim scoffed. The light changed to green and they were moving again.   
  
"I do so! Homoeroticism and the military is as old as... well, the military," Blair said, grinning. "But let's get back to the point -- you've never, ever, had any kind of 'encounter'?"   
  
"No, I haven't," Jim said quickly. "And --"   
  
"Spare me the 'And I don't want to, either' crap. I don't buy it; you can't be so uptight that you've never even *wondered* about it," Blair said. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Jim. The hesitancy he saw there was all he needed. "Aha! Admit it. You are just the tiniest bit curious."  
  
Jim's mouth tightened and his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. How did this get turned around on him?   
  
"You are! You are!" Blair said gleefully, nearly bouncing with excitement. "You can't lie to your guide, man."   
  
"I am not curious," Jim said slowly. "If other people want to do it, fine. Whatever. But the whole thing is...well..."   
  
"Is what? So help me, Jim, if you say 'it's icky' I just might have to hurt you," Blair said, half-seriously. "Stop wrinkling your nose like that. It's just a mouth, Jim. Just another human being. What does it matter who is on the other side of it?"   
  
"Only you, Blair, could say something like that."   
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"It means that it's just like you, not to care who's on the other side," Jim said with a hint of accusation.   
  
"I care. Of course I *care*," Blair fumed. "That's really harsh."   
  
"Is it? How many women have you slept with since I've known you? How many have paraded through here? It doesn't seem like you care that much, jumping from one to another all the time," Jim said, fighting to keep his voice level. Somehow this lighthearted discussion had taken a wrong turn. He looked at Blair's hurt expression and wondered why he didn't just keep his mouth shut.   
  
"Just because I'm not the monk you are --"   
  
"It doesn't have anything to do with me," Jim said. "I don't care what you do. I just don't see how you could care a lot about all those women."  
  
"Jesus. What, you think you can only like one person at a time? Or maybe you think that you have to love someone in order to sleep with them? That you can't just be friends and have fun?" Blair asked.   
  
"I didn't say that. And it really doesn't matter what I think, does it?"  
  
"No, I guess it doesn't." Blair turned away from Jim, looking sullenly out the window, searching for anything to look at, anything to distract him from the sudden ache in his throat. "Besides, you've never even kissed a guy, so I don't know how you're any great authority on the subject."  
  
" Oh, right. Like that makes you an expert. Oh, you're so *experienced*, so *cutting-edge*, so *90s*," Jim said, unable to keep the scorn out of his voice. "Just because you kissed a guy. Or was it more? Maybe you fucked him as well." [Jesus,] Jim said to himself. [Where is this anger coming from?]   
  
"I said I kissed him, not fucked him," Blair said quietly. "Look, let's just drop it, okay?"  
  
"No, you brought it up. Tell me, " Jim commanded.   
  
"Tell you what?"  
  
"Tell me about the guy, the one you kissed."   
  
"It's none of your damn business," Blair countered angrily, glaring at Jim.  
  
"Yes it is. You can't throw that in my face and then not explain."   
  
"Watch me," Blair said, turning away.  
  
Jim turned to face Blair, but the retort died on his lips as something caught his eye. Slamming on the brakes, he sent the truck into a skid to avoid the stopped car in front of them.   
  
"Shit! I didn't even see him stop," Jim said to himself. He willed himself to relax.  
  
"Ah, Jim, you can put your arm down, now," Blair suggested.   
  
"Oh... sorry." Jim sheepishly pulled his hand back from Blair's midsection.  
  
"I don't know why you do that, anyway. If you do ever hit anything, you won't be able to stop me from flying through the windshield."   
  
"I can't help it," Jim said, still inwardly fuming at his emergency stop.  
  
"Yeah, I know. 'Blessed Protector' and all that."   
  
Jim turned to Blair, surprised at his mild tone. "Maybe, but don't think that it'll get you out of answering the question."   
  
"What question?"  
  
"You know perfectly well what question. I want to know why you did it," Jim said firmly.  
  
"Did what?" asked Blair, all innocence, lips twitching with a smile.   
  
"Blair..." Jim warned. "Come on, tell me. I know you're dying to. Yes, I can see it in your eyes. You can't resist lecturing to the uneducated. Come on, Professor, spill it."   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." Blair tried one more attempt at deflection. "Oh, all right. I'll tell you. Since you asked so nicely, this time. But no jokes, okay?"   
  
"Jokes? Me?" It was Jim's turn to play the innocent.   
  
"Right," Blair said with an ironic twist to his lips. "I think you can go now." Blair indicated the now-moving traffic ahead of them.   
  
"Hmm. Well, let's see," Blair stalled for time, wondering how to explain this without provoking laughter. "All right. It was during college, senior year. Don't look at me like that -- what did you expect? Grade school? Geez. So, I was living in a house off-campus, and we had a party. Not a big one, maybe fifteen people. We were just hanging out, really. Not drinking very much, just being social."  
  
Next came the tricky bit. "There wasn't anything to do. We were all bored, and, well, someone suggested spin the bottle... No, really. Stop laughing! Only we were going to be cool about it, you know, very hip, and so you couldn't refuse the person who spun you. A few people didn't want to play at first, so we told them that they didn't get to watch. If you were there, you played. No audience. Because, of course, you had to kiss the person right there, in front of everyone.  
  
"Now, I think we were all a bit nervous about this. I mean, we were friends \-- good friends -- but there were exes in the group, and it could have gotten ugly. But there was this weird vibe, you know? An almost magical feeling in the air. We were all laughing, making jokes, as we sat in a big circle and set the ground rules. Like I said before, no one could refuse a kiss. Also, you could kiss any way you wanted to -- but no forcing your tongue down someone's throat. It had to be consensual. And you couldn't make anyone feel bad, either. It was strange, playing this kiddie game with an adult edge to it. And it was even weirder because we were sober. I mean, if we were all trashed it would be easy to brush it off the next day. But we were seniors, and all pretty serious about school, so by that time we weren't into heavy drinking anymore. No, I'm serious. We weren't drunk.  
  
"I don't remember who spun first. It must have been a het couple, or I'd have remembered that. But they set the tone, giving quite a nice performance. Man, it was bizarre, all of us sitting there, watching them lean over the vodka bottle and seriously go at it. There was a moment of silence as we all watched, then people began cheering them on. The bottle spun on a few times, and we got the first couple who had been boyfriend/girlfriend during our freshman year. There was a brief hesitation, and then those two went at it like no one else was in the room. It was great. No, not like *that*. It was just fun, you know. It was safe and, I dunno, trippy.  
  
"Trippy? This isn't the 60s, Chief," Jim said. "Come on, get to the good part." [Good part?!] his mind echoed in alarm.   
  
"OK, but you gotta let me tell it my way. So, the first same-sex pair was a good friend of mine, a bisexual woman, and a rather open-minded friend. I remember being nervous about it -- you know, wondering if everyone really was going to be as cool about this as they said they would. But these two kissed just like everyone else had, arms around one another and thoroughly enjoying it. By the time the kiss was over, everyone was hooting and clapping. It was hilarious. They were quite proud of themselves, and everyone seemed really impressed that they had the guts to do it.   
  
"Then my good friend spun the bottle and got me. Kissing her was no big deal, although it would have been if it were two years before that when I had the biggest crush on her. Anyway, it was fun to finally act out the thing I'd spent so much time thinking about -- especially since the emotional baggage was long since gone." Blair stopped, lost in the memory.  
  
"And? So? What happened next?"  
  
Blair felt his face grow warm at Jim's prompt. There was only one way to get through this. "Well, I spun, of course. And I got my best friend. John. We had been friends since we met, that first year. He was the coolest guy, Jim. You'd like him, I think. He's not really like me, but we hit it off right away. So, I didn't know what to do. I mean, I knew what I was going to do, but I didn't know how I was going to do it. Well, physically, I knew what to do. But he was my *friend*. For some reason, I remember thinking 'but I play basketball with him.' I don't know what that had to do with anything.  
  
"I guess, it was just that we'd spent so much of our lives together, we'd done so much together, that this was the only thing that we *hadn't* done. And it was a big deal. I mean, I'd touched him, fought with him, played tackle football in the driving rain, even gone skinny-dipping with him. But this, well, this was one physical thing that we'd never shared. It was just so alien. He was a guy, I was a guy, and we both liked girls. End of story. Only now, it was all different. I was going to cross that line.   
  
"And the even stranger thing was, I wanted it to be good. I mean, I wanted everyone to cheer, just like they had before. It was that idea of putting on a show, I guess. But I also wanted it to be good *for him*. You know? You don't know. Obviously you don't know. If you start laughing...  
  
"Sorry, sorry," Jim said, chuckling at Blair's consternation. "But really, Blair, you gotta admit, sometimes it seems like your whole life is a show."  
  
"Fine. Well, it's hard to explain. I wasn't attracted to him, or anything. He was just my friend, and I wanted to make him happy. So I kissed him. I put everything I had into it. Things were a bit awkward at first -- I couldn't stop thinking about everyone watching. But then I stopped trying to think of him as another girl and started thinking of him as John. I don't know how to explain it, but it was like learning about him. Learning about another side of him, something that I'd never seen, and never would see again. It wasn't that I missed that side of him, but more like it was just something to explore. You know, how does your best friend make love? Academically, it is an interesting question.   
  
"Cut it out. Okay, so maybe I wasn't doing it for academic reasons. Whatever. The point is, I did it. And I learned that kissing is kissing. That's it. Everyone has their own way, but, male or female, it doesn't really matter. Sure, there's the feel of unshaven skin -- Jim, don't make faces like that. Grow up. But really, it's all the same.  
  
"We must have put on a decent show, though, since everyone was yelling when we got done. Anyway, that's it. Now you know. And it's my story to tell, so don't go spreading it around Major Crimes, okay? It's a very cool thing that happened to me, and I don't want it turned into some cheap gossip that people wouldn't understand."   
  
__________________________  
  
Jim was quiet for a while, driving automatically as he digested Blair's monologue. "So that's it? That's the story?"   
  
"Yeah. Why? What did you expect?"  
  
"Blair, you didn't even kiss someone you liked!"   
  
"I liked John. I liked all the people there," Blair said, confused.   
  
"You know what I mean. *Liked* as in 'was attracted to'," Jim explained.  
  
"So what? What has that got to do with it?"   
  
"It has everything to do with it. Plus, you did it in front of everyone. That's not the same."  
  
"Same as what?"  
  
"The same as kissing someone when you're alone. Kissing someone you really like. What you did was, well..." Jim trailed off, unable to find the words.  
  
"Was what? I kissed a guy. That's all I said I did," Blair answered. "And it's a hell of a lot more than you've done!"   
  
"That's not the point. You said you kissed a guy, but what you did was fake. You said it yourself, it was like a show."   
  
"Fake! It wasn't fake! I said I kissed him and I did. Tongue and all," Blair said. "Really, are you gonna rate this, now? It doesn't count because I didn't want to sleep with him? That's ridiculous!"   
  
"But it's not the same --"  
  
"Same as what. Oh, okay, you just said that. Fine, it isn't the same. But you can't put it down because it doesn't meet your standards... That's what this is about, isn't it? You can't stand the fact that I've done something like this and you haven't. You have to cut it down because you're jealous!" Blair's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh, no you don't. I know I'm right. You're getting all red again. Admit it! You're jealous!"  
  
"I am not. I just don't think what you did is all that big a deal," Jim said, fighting to maintain his nonchalance.   
  
"Bullshit. You're mad. I can tell," Blair said, then added, "Besides, even if it isn't a big deal, it still is more than you've done."  
  
"Oh, please. Like I'm worried about what crazy stuff you're up to."   
  
"You are. Don't try to deny it, I can tell. I'm your guide, remember? I know more about you than you do. I know that face, Jim. Don't bother lying," Blair said. He looked at Jim sitting rigidly next to him, and a wicked thought sprung to mind. He was right, he knew it, but he wanted Jim to know it, too. "You know what you have to do, don't you?" He hid the smile that threatened. "You have to kiss me."  
  
"What!" The truck swerved dangerously as Jim twisted to look at Blair.  
  
"You heard me. Do it, and you'll be even with me. Then you won't be so mad."  
  
"I'm not mad." Jim resolutely returned to the task of keeping the truck on the road.  
  
"Yes, you are. And this is getting old. Come on, Jim, just kiss me and you'll see I'm right."  
  
"I am NOT going to kiss you. No way. That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard. I am not jealous of you. I just don't think your little escapade merits your superior attitude," Jim added haughtily.   
  
"Ha. 'Superior attitude'? Where'd you come up with that? Come on, pull over and do it." Blair looked at Jim from the corner of his eyes. "Or are you chicken?"  
  
"Don't even try that, Blair. I am not chicken -- I just don't have anything to prove to you."  
  
"Should I dare you?" There was a tense pause, then Blair laughed. "Okay, Jim, you win. Don't do it. I don't care. I can think I'm right, and you can think you're right, and never the two shall meet."  
  
"Right about what?"  
  
"Whatever it is that we're arguing about."   
  
"What is that?"  
  
"I don't know," Blair said petulantly. "Look, it doesn't matter. But my offer still stands."  
  
"No way."  
  
"Why not? Come on, it's a once in a lifetime offer. I won't tell anyone -- you know you can trust me," Blair said.   
  
"It's not that I don't trust you, Chief," Jim said, looking him straight in the eye. "Really, it isn't. I just am not gonna do it, that's all."  
  
"But why! I don't get it. I *know* you're curious -- you're still blushing," Blair noted. "It --"  
  
"Blair, just give it up."  
  
"No, Big Guy. It'll be fun."  
  
"Fun!?" Jim said, voice rising in disbelief. This time, the truck shifted only slightly within the lane.  
  
"Yeah, fun. You know, something different. Something to carry around with you, to make you feel special," Blair tried to explain.   
  
"Special? That would *not* make me feel 'special,' Chief," Jim said warningly.  
  
"Yes it would. It's like a secret. Something that makes you feel good about yourself," Blair said. "Like that you could handle that kind of thing, you could handle what most guys think of as the biggest threat to their masculinity \-- kissing another guy."   
  
Blair watched Jim's impassive face for a few moments. "Or not. I won't pressure you -- even though I do think you're a chicken," Blair said, adding a smile to take the sting out of it. "Take it or leave it."  
  
Jim looked quickly at Blair, and shook his head. Blair sighed briefly, saying, "All right, then. Forget about it."   
  
Silence reigned for the rest of the ride to the loft. Blair daydreamed out the window, withdrawing into his private world as Jim brought them home without further incident. Lost in thought, it took him a few seconds to register the fact that Jim had parked and turned the engine off. Shaking himself awake, he began to gather his books and reach for the door when he felt Jim's hand on his arm pulling him back into the truck. He turned in protest but before he managed anything beyond a startled "Hey!," Jim pulled his head close and kissed him directly on the mouth.  
  
It was a startling moment. Part of Jim's mind was yelling in confused outrage, while the other savored the warm scent of Blair as the world closed around them. Their lips met briefly and he tried to ignore the insistent clamor of fear, instead wondering at the gentleness of the touch. It was all scented herbs and muted sweetness, fulfilling the promise he sensed every time Blair was near.  
  
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a thought was voicing betrayal as it tried to explain that he shouldn't be doing this. [Not to your best friend.] Jim squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, willing himself not to panic. [Do it. Blair isn't objecting.] While this was true, Blair wasn't exactly cooperating, either. Jim felt the tension in Blair's body, the rigidly held position. Their only connection was the press of closed lips and Jim's hand on Blair's cheek, cradling his head. One coherent thought surfaced in the clamor of Jim's mind: do it now or you won't ever. So, he took the chance and opened his mouth, tasting Blair slowly, deliberately.   
  
Jim felt Blair's suddenly indrawn breath, then he relaxed against Jim like a heavy quilt, giving way all barriers at once. They explored each other delicately at first, then with rising insistence. Jim's other hand rose to entwine itself in Blair's heavy curls, pairing the familiar sight with the unfamiliar feel, and Blair's hands found their way toward Jim, sliding comfortably into the open neck of his shirt in search of bare skin. Twisting under the sensual touch, Jim kissed Blair hard, openly displaying his passion. Through his tumbling emotions he found delight in the recognition that Blair kissed him back with equal desire.   
  
The rough scrape of unshaven skin reminded him uneasily of reality, but it was soon forgotten as the comforting sensation of being kissed by his best friend washed over him; unexpected, yet oddly familiar. Jim began to test his reactions, pushing forward then suspending action until Blair responded, teasing the other until they were utterly lost. He sucked Blair's lower lip into his mouth, stroking it with his tongue as he marveled at its softness. Blair replied with an involuntary arch of his back, and Jim obliged him again, sucking gently until each pull elicited a quiet moan from Blair.  
  
Hearing those tiny noises from Blair pushed him over the edge. He pulled Blair to him, intent on getting as close as possible as quickly as possible. Whatever he felt, it wasn't enough. His head was spinning and he knew that he was moaning with desire, too. It was a desperate feeling, as if nothing would be able to put out the fire now raging inside him. And suddenly, it began to get scary again. It was all out of control -- terrifying -- burning -- and suddenly he broke away from the kiss, pulling back from Blair.   
  
He saw his own desperation reflected there, in Blair's ravaged face. Blair was beautiful, his mouth slightly open and invitingly swollen, cheeks flushed, dark lashes closed against the amber skin. Then Blair looked up, slowly unveiling his blue-violet eyes, and Jim knew he was lost. Whatever he had hoped to gain evaporated in that smoldering stare.  
  
Blair held his gaze prisoner as they waited, breathing hard. Gradually, Jim's swirling emotions began to settle, and he felt a horrible loneliness creep into him. His hands tightened their hold on Blair, but it couldn't prevent the sense of loss building within him. Then, incredibly, he watched Blair's eyes blur and fill with tears. Blair looked quickly down before any betraying drops fell, and Jim waited cautiously, breathing shallowly lest any stray movement break the spell.  
  
A heart beat, then two, three, four, and Blair raised his eyes. Clear eyes, serious eyes, but then -- he smiled, the slight curve of his lips growing to a wondrous smile that forced Jim to smile in return. He didn't know why -- it was simply irresistible. Blair smiled at him, and his whole world came back. Not unchanged, but still intact.  
  
Then Blair melted out of his grasp and slid out of the truck, leaving only the ghost of his smile behind. Jim sat alone in the truck, wondering what his Guide would do to him next.   
  
Finis.  
  
False Tongues  
November 1997 


End file.
